Who: Heather and Tony Where: Cabin 006 room B When: Back dated to after this What: Drinking alone was bad, wasn't it? Rating: TBD Status: In Progress
Was she really going to have to give up being Robin's friend? Is that where they were going to end up? The thought of it was something that hurt worse than Allan leaving. It hurt worse than knowing she wasn't good enough for Tony. It hurt to a point that it was beyond tears. She could just simply sit there in the dark, the moon light streaming in from the open window, knees pulled up to her chest.
It hadn't been that long that she'd taken a shower, dressed for bed, yet couldn't even begin to try and sleep. How could she? Like she told Tony, it felt like there was a huge gaping hole in her chest. There would be no filling it, there would be no closing it up... She had managed to go downstairs and get a pair of glasses, both sitting on one of the nightstands with the Wild Turkey. It might keep things under control a little bit. Maybe. Though that was a big doubt.
So she simply sat, and waited. The things that went bump in the night needed a personal invitation in, so she didn't have to be afraid of leaving the front door open. She didn't have to fear leaving the windows in her bedroom open. And the things that could come in without an invitation? Well there was a 12 gauge Benelli beneath the bed, and shells in the nightstand. You didn't have to be a perfect shot with something like that.
She hummed softly, a song that she'd heard since coming here, a country song that soo fit the situation.